


It was you

by obidalanetwork_archivist



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Complete, Drama, Movie: Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-08
Updated: 2008-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26213131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obidalanetwork_archivist/pseuds/obidalanetwork_archivist
Summary: Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.
Kudos: 1
Collections: Obidala Network





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Nadia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Obidala Network](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Obidala_Network) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2020. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Obidala Network’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/obidalanetwork/profile).

Part I.

He knocked softly on the door to her chamber, each dull thud seeming to echo in his aching heart. He'd lost his apprentice. The man who had been like a son to him. The boy he had watched grow up. The boy who was his responsibility to nurture and mold. He had failed. He had failed so miserably, it was beyond definition, and he wanted desperately to simply curl up in a ball somewhere and die. He had killed his own Padawan, and now he was going to face his widow and tell her that he had murdered her husband.

The door opened slowly, and there she stood: Padme Amidala, in all her prisitine beauty. "Obi-Wan," she said, a faint smile on her full pink lips. She threw her arms around him, seeing the single tear that had escaped from his eye with a blink. He pulled her tightly into his embrace, knowing that once he delivered this horrifying news to her, he might never feel the warmth of her touch again. Padme buried her head in his chest for the longest of times, and Obi-Wan kissed her pretty white forehead. He rested his weary head on top of hers, relishing in the warmth of her face against his. He wished that he had only felt it before, when he could have enjoyed it. He wished that it were he, not Anakin who had basked in the glow of her love. He wished he were dead, for standing here, holding her, coveting her, while her husband's body was in a molten pit of lava.

"Obi-Wan," she said, again, barely a whisper. "Obi-Wan." It were as if she were a small child who has just discovered the ability to speak and repeats a word again and again, caressing it with their voice. "Obi-Wan, what's wrong?"

She felt him take a deep, shuttering breath and could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Anakin," he said at last. "It's Anakin."

She pulled away from his embrace slightly, just enough to see his face. "What?" she asked, not quite understanding but fearing the worst. She searched his beautiful eyes for some answer to the feeling of dread that grew within her. He looked suddenly so old, so sad...

"He's dead," he said, bluntly, snapping her from her reverie. "Anakin's dead."

She extracted herself from his arms completely now, reeling back physically in horror, her hand flying to her mouth to stop a scream that did not come. There were no words in her voice box, only a choking kind of dryness, and a feeling as if she surely must be having a nightmare and would wake up soon to Anakin's clumsy hand brushing her hair away from her face and telling her that it had only been a bad dream. She'd dreamed this dream so many terrible times. Why wasn't she waking up?

A few incoherent words escaped her lips before she finally managed, "Wh-- wha--what?"

"We fought," he said simply, not able to meet her eyes, horrified to see her like this. Why, why had Master Yoda insisted that he be the one to tell her this? Anyone else could have delivered the news. "Need each other, you do," he had said. "Cares for you, she does. Hear it from you, she will." Even in moments like these, Obi-Wan found it next to impossible to protest what Yoda said. He was so often right...they did need each other. But her reaction was as he feared.

"You mean..." she couldn't seem to finish her own sentence. "You mean..." she began again, stopping once more. "You...you killed him?"

The pain in her eyes made Obi-Wan feel as if he had just been split down the middle by a lightsaber. He'd felt the touch of a laser sword to his skin before, and imagined that the pain of a good, solid swipe of that Jedi weapon would feel preferable to the guilt that threatened to eat him alive now.

"I did what I had to," he choked, looking at the floor.

"No," she said. "No, this can't be happening..." and she flew from the room, sobbing, onto her balcony.

Fearing she would do something drastic, he followed her. He wished desperately that he could run in the opposite direction and erase this horrible moment from his memory forever. But instead, he followed her. It was his duty as a Jedi to watch over her and protect her...

He watched her silently, hating to see her empty gaze towards the heavens. Damn duty! He couldn't stand to be here, to see her like this. Oh, damn the Jedi! What had being a Jedi ever done for him, anyway? He'd put his life at risk for millions of people a million times before. People who would never know his name, people who would never even say "thank you." He'd left his family, whom he couldn't even remember, lost the man who was like a father to him, seen the comrades he'd grown up with slaughtered before his very eyes. And now...now, he'd lost his best friend, his apprentice, his son, and it was his fault. Should've been stronger. Should've seen it coming, he told himself. All your fault...

And now, the one person he had left in the world, would harden her heart against him and never be able to forgive him.

She turned slowly and looked at him, blankly, as if his image did not register in her mind for a moment. Then suddenly, so quickly that it took him off guard, she burst into a sudden fury, her knuckles, previously white from her tight grip on the railing of her balcony, slamming into his hard, broad chest. "How could you?" she said, sobbing. "How could you do this? You killed him! You!"

He stilled her fists in his large hands, although she still struggled slightly against him. "Padme, please," he said. "He was out of control...I had no other choice..."

She looked up with him, tears blurring her vision, and said with a spite that chilled him, "Get out of my site."

Now it was Obi-Wan who staggered back. Silent tears rolled fast down his face, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd lost his composure like this. "Get out!" she screamed. "GO!!"

Completely terrified of a girl who could never so much a bruise him physically, but that had broken the last shred of hope he held in his heart, he was gone as quickly as a shadow, leaving her alone on her balcony with the cool wind blowing her dress about her legs.

\--------------------

Padme did not know how long she sat on her porch, completely motionless, and could not recall when she had sunken down to the floor of the balcony. It was better, though, that she found herself here, because if she had been standing, she knew she would have been tempted to simply pitch herself over the edge to her certain death below. The thought still was taunting her, but she had not the energy to even stand.

She had known, of course, that her husband had problems beyond her understanding. He had flown into fits of rage, but they were never directed at her. Never her. So she had clung onto some hope that the problems would sort themselves out. He loved her. He was a bad man, but he loved her, and that was enough. Now that he were dead...all hope was gone. She had wished so desperately that Obi-Wan could save Anakin. Obi-Wan could do almost anything.

Obi-Wan!

Oh God, what had she done? What had she done? She had flown into a rage so hot, merely remembering it made her feel as if she were on fire. She had turned out the one person she had left in the world. The arms that would hold her, the hands that would dry her eyes, the voice that would tell her it was going to be alright...they were gone. Mustering her strength, Padme pulled herself up by the rails of her balcony and stood on shaky legs. Peering over the edge into the water below, she suddenly felt as if she were going to vomit. Her head swam, and she felt dizzy, felt that surely she would die now. "Obi-Wan," she sobbed. "Obi-Wan." She did not know how many times she cried his name.

After what could have been perhaps another eternity, a glimmer of light across the water caught the young Senators eye. Looking up, she saw identified the source of that tiny shimmer: the moon, emerging from behind a cloud.

Blinking the tears back from her eyes, she stood up fully, squaring her shoulders. She had lost so much already...and without Obi-Wan, she knew she would surely die. She needed him. She loved him...

God, she loved him. She ran from her room, blindly running through the halls of the royal palace where she had once reigned, searching for the room he was staying in. What number was it? She didn't know, but she felt pulled by something beyond her understanding, the way birds fly south and somehow know the way. Down flights of stairs she ran, silent and fast, spiraling down, down, down...

With each step, she remembered how Obi-Wan had loved her in the past. How she had come to trust him, admire him, respect him, and love him...how he had always watched out for her, how he had cradled her in his arms so many times, how his eyes had danced in amusement, how deep and rich his laughter was when he was truly amused. He had protected her, no matter what, and she knew...she knew that he loved her. And she loved him. Yes, she loved him. And she needed him more than she had ever needed anyone...

She burst into his room, and relief washed over her to find him lying on his bed. A sudden fear seized her heart for a moment, for he was so still, she feared he must be dead. Oh, if he were dead...if he were dead...but he opened his eyes. Seeing her, blinking as if to make sure she were really there, he said softly, "Padme?"

She closed the door swiftly behind her, and threw herself onto his bed and wrapped her arms around his muscular torso. "Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry," she said. "Please, please, Obi-Wan. Please forgive me. I didn't mean it..."

He was hesitant at first, but soon she felt herself enveloped in him, and knew that this was the only place in the world where she could ever feel safe or whole anymore. He held her so tightly, she thought her fragile bones might snap, but did not mind the pain because for the first time in so long, it was something real. He said nothing, and only held her, until she fell asleep in his arms and sleep soon claimed him as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.

Part II.

As conciousness slowly crept back over Padme with the rising of the Naboo sun, she struggled to recall her whereabouts. There was an unfamiliar green velvet blanket draped over her, tucked carefully up over her shoulders and something hard wrapped around her waist as well as under her. Her pillow was not very soft, and indeed, it seemed to move in a steady pattern. It was only when she heard Obi-Wan's voice that she remembered she had spent the night in his arms, that the hard thing wrapped around her little waist was his arm, and that under her were his powerful thighs, and that his chest was her pillow. The cruelty of realizing why she had spent the night with this kindhearted man hit hard, and she was terrified to face the day. Tragedy was so much easier to deal with at night, when you could hide all your pain in the darkness, or when you could curl up and slip away from reality...

"Padme," he whispered, right into her ear. His voice was smooth and soft, and she wanted to drown in it. A strange tingle ran up her spine at the proximity of his lips to her earlobe as he said, "are you alright?"

She didn't answer. She only wanted to feel the tickle of his breath on her skin. It made her feel alive. When he spoke again, she got her wish. "Padme," he barely breathed. "Say something."

She sighed, and finally opened her eyes and raised them up to look at him. He was so beautiful. In the sunlight that was streaming in through the window, his reddish blonde hair glimmered at places, giving him an almost angelic glow. He was her angel, she thought to herself. The one who had picked her up all those times when things had been bad...the one who had never let her down. When she was weak, he had carried her, and she felt a new pang of guilt for never before realizing how much he meant to her. She pulled herself up his body just slightly, so that now her head rested in the crook of his neck and she could feel his rough beard grazing her nose and forehead. She kissed his skin softly at the junction between his strong shoulder and neck. She put just a few more feather-light kisses there, and moved so that she could kiss his cheek as well. She could feel the resistance and the longing in him all and once, and he sat up and scooted towards the head of the bed, in an effort to move away from her. She moved with him, but made no move to continue kissing him, now merely gazing imploringly into his eyes. "Please tell me where we go from here," her brown orbs seemed to say. "Please let me know that I'm still alive...let me feel something..."

An inner conflict ripped at Obi-Wan's soul. This beautiful woman, without saying anything, was offering herself to him silently. He couldn't count the number of nights he had laid awake, tossing and turning, yearning for her. Her soft kiss, her gentle touch, her sweet voice...how he had wanted it to be his. How he ached for just one night with her, just one night when he could pretend that she belonged to him and he to her. Now was he chance. He could have her...he could take her away, if only for awhile, and make her forget her pain and his...her big brown eyes pleaded with him. Begged him to touch her, to make her feel something. He looked down, unable to continue looking at her, for fear that he would do something he would regret later. But what was to regret now? Anakin was dead. Anakin was the reason he was suffering now, and the reason why this perfect creature perched on his lap, studying him intently, was radiating pain from her soft frame. Just one kiss, and he would make her forget...

Softly, but with confidence, one hand found it's home on her left side, and the other reached up to stroke her lovely cheek. Turning her head into his hand, she kissed his palm with that same feathery kiss that had so allured him earlier, and he shivered at the touch. He'd dreamed of moments like this...even the smallest of touches, but something stopped him and he dropped his hands to his lap. Anakin had become infuriated if Obi-Wan had even so much as looked at Padme with the slightest hint of yearning or even simple affection. He would lash out at his master, accusing him of lusting after his wife. "She loves me," he'd growled. "I know you've always been jealous of me, but she's the one thing I have that you will never, ever be able to get your hands on as long as I have breath in my body." And he no longer did, thanks to Obi-Wan, who nearly shuddered visibly at the thought. Inside, he laughed bitterly at the irony of it...Anakin said that he would only have Padme "over my dead body," and here he was now, about to take the only chance he might ever have with this astounding woman. He sighed deeply, his former Padawan's words ringing in his head and in his heart. "She loves me," he'd said. And she had loved Anakin. When had she even thought about Obi-Wan? Did she care for him at all? Looking up at the dejected young woman, he realized that he did not know the answer. He could so easily have what he had wanted for so long, but knew that he would only suffer more anguish making love to her and knowing that she was thinking of Anakin. The only woman he had ever loved belonged to another. She always had and she always would, no matter if that man were dead or alive. It was only when he tasted the bittersweetness of his tears on his lips that he realized he had been crying.

Padme saw his tears and wiped them away with her gentle hand. He silently cursed her for touching him, for it only made his heartache greater, but at the same time he wished that time and memory would simply fade away, leaving the two of them here, all alone and belonging to no one but each other. Even just her soft hand on his face was too much for poor Obi-Wan. She was too gentle, too kind, and too beautiful for him. The tears fell faster, and soon Padme was crying with him.

Padme, like Obi-Wan, was not crying for Anakin. She cried to see Obi-Wan's eyes such a stormy, raging sea. She remembered the little jokes he used to make, and how witty he always was, and how his eyes always sparkled so with his laugher...it seemed that he laughed a lot with Padme. When Anakin wasn't around, they had so much fun...when she was with Obi-Wan, it was as if Anakin did not exist and had never existed. There was only the two of them and their combined happiness, and somehow she felt that there truly was a rhyme and reason to life and the strange universe they were a part of. Obi-Wan was good and real and true, and she knew that she had never had a better friend in all her years. She didn't think it was possible, but her heart broke more at seeing him so sad now, at seeing the man who had always been so strong and composed crying openly before her. She felt the rough stubble of his cheek where he shaved a bit closer, and rubbed it lazily with the back of her fingers. God, it felt good...she had always loved the roughness of a man compared to the softness of a woman. It was strangely erotic, the texture of his face and his beard, and she ached to just kiss him. Just one kiss, and she would make him forget...but her thoughts turned to Anakin, and she was scared again. She thought of how different the Master and his apprentice had been. Anakin had always been so clean-shaven; so boyish in every way. She had married a boy. A boy with the body of a boy, the mind of a boy, the emotions of a boy, the desires of a boy. And then there was Obi-Wan...everything Anakin was not. Cool and composed while Anakin was hyper and excitable. Wise and understanding where Anakin was inexperienced and naive. And his eyes...Obi-Wan's eyes truly were windows to his soul. They were an ocean of emotions, and while the rest of him seemed always completely unaffected, Padme had seen so many things in Obi- Wan's eyes, she couldn't understand how anyone could ever say Jedi were flat and emotionless. Sometimes, the way Obi-Wan looked at her made her positively shiver, in the best possible way. It was as if he could see past her...into her...and the emotion, the caring in his eyes was so tender and so raw she wanted to run to him and kiss him right there, kiss him and never stop, even with Anakin in the room. Once, that naked gaze had not escaped Anakin, and he had attacked his Master verbally right there, in front of Padme. "She loves me," he'd said. "No," she'd wanted to say. How badly she wanted to say it! "I do love Obi-Wan. I loved you once, Anakin, but you are no longer the boy I used to know." Perhaps, she thought sourly, I never really knew him at all.

She was glad she could still look at Obi-Wan's eyes. Even plagued by sadness and guilt as they were now, they were beautiful. Grey and blue and green all at once, they reminded her of the water of Naboo on a cloudy day. If only the sun would come out and she could see some shimmer of hope and happiness. She wondered if she would ever see his eyes dance with joy again. Anakin's eyes had frightened her...the fury in them, the resentment, the spite...she had also seen the love there, many times... but the way his eyes flashed in sudden furies, unexpected and unexplicable often times, she was truly afraid. She had held in her heart some lasting love for him that wouldn't die...but it was a love for a figment of her imagination, because the man she had loved had never really existed. Looking at Obi-Wan, she saw all that she thought was good and real and true in the world, and she wanted to climb in his eyes, in his heart, in his soul so that she could always be a part of that good, true beauty. Oh, she had been so horrified when she found out about Anakin...but perhaps it is better, she thought, that he is dead. She was horrified for her line of thinking, but she couldn't stop once it had entered her mind. I could be with Obi-Wan now, she thought. I've always loved him, I just didn't know it...and surely he must love me. He must! But perhaps he doesn't. I was so horrible to him last night. He'll probably never forgive me now, she thought sadly. She searched his eyes for some sign of what he was thinking, but he was looking past her and through her, as if she were absolutely invisible.

After a moment, he finally met her gaze, and he smiled sadly. He leaned in, so close that her heart raced at the thought that he would kiss her, but he only placed his lips softly on her forehead as he had done so many times before. And yet, it was different this time: softer, sweeter, and longer. She looked at him, pleading silently for more, but he just blinked slowly, as a cat waking from a nap,and said, "What would you like for breakfast, m'lady?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.

Part III.

Padme and Obi-Wan made their way slowly the the palace orchard. There was a rich abundance of fruit native to Naboo there...many said it was some of the best in the system. Neither half of the couple that now wound their way through the lush paths through Naboo forests had wanted to dine with the other guests at the palace. In their world, only the two of them existed. There was no grief, no pain: only the two of them during moments like these. As they walked in silence, Padme reached for Obi-Wan's hand. He seemed surprised, but did not retreat from her touch. Instead, he laced his large, capable fingers through hers and gave her tiny hand a gentle squeeze. Padme was amazed at how warm he was...his palm was just slightly rough against hers, yet he seemed to cradle her hand gingerly in his. She did not know, could not know, that Obi-Wan had never held hands with a woman before. There had never been any women to hold hands with. Of course, he had had his lovers, but none of them were significant. He had loved none of them, nor they him, and his nights of passion had always been almost painfully emotionless. He found himself damning the Jedi again, with all of their forbiddings. Attachment was forbidden. But what could be better, what could be richer than loving someone and knowing that you were loved in return? He had never known the feeling, and supposed he never would. And yet, he was so bitterly tired of existing completely seperately from the rest of the world. He ached for love, he ached for someone to kiss, to hold, to touch...he ached for Padme. Her hand seemed so fragile in his, he was almost afraid to possess it with his touch, for fear that he might somehow mar her delicate beauty. Who was he to touch this beautiful creature? She had always been just out of his reach, it seemed, and now he was amazed simply at the contact of their skin. He had seen couples holding hands countless times before, and never understood what was behind it. It seemed pointless to him at the time, to be attached to someone in such away, restricting one's movement through your contact. He understood now. As afraid as he was of somehow hurting her, and as unworthy of her as he felt, he never wanted to let go of her. He needed to touch her, to feel her soft skin, just to know that she was still real, still alive, and still with him. Never before had he felt so hopelessly dependent on another human being. Never before had the thought of lossing someone so haunted him. He had lost friends, he had lost Qui-Gon, he had lost Anakin. But even the pain of their deaths seemed incomparable to the mere thought of being without Padme. He squeezed her hand unconciously.

When they reached the orchard, the sun was just rising above the trees, casting a soft glow on the fertile green land below. Padme seemed to know her way here, and she lead Obi-Wan, still clutching his hand, down row upon row of fruits that looked and tasted almost unnaturally delicious. Glowing reds, purples, and yellows...soft and sweet. For a moment, both forgot their worries. There reason for being there, alone amongst all the ripe plants, desperately seeking escape from reality, seemed to slip from their minds. This was the only reality there was.

Padme showed Obi-Wan to a rustic but sturdy looking fence near the outskirts of the orchard. Choosing a spot in the shade, the leaned on it, still holding hands, as if they would never and could never let go, even if they wanted to. It seemed strange to Obi-Wan, in a way, that they were joined like this. It was oddly romantic and yet somehow platonic at the same time...not a touch just for the sake of touching, but a touch for comfort's sake.

She looked painfully beautiful there in the comfort of the shadows. So beautiful, it made Obi-Wan literally ache. He sighed, completely at a loss. He could kiss her...but if he did, would he ever be able to stop?

"Obi-Wan," she said, speaking for the first time since they had entered the orchard. "What's wrong?"

He almost laughed bitterly at her ridiculous question, but instead only let out a slow, shaky breath. Giving her one of those piercing looks that made her shiver, so intense and full of emotion, he said with an ironic little smile, "What's wrong? Please, tell me what is *right.*"

She looked at him seriously for a moment and said, "This. This is right." She squeezed his hand.

Oh *God,* why did she have to say things like that? She was pratically asking him to kiss her. He nearly groaned aloud in frustration as she continued, willing her to stop because her words rung so true in his heart and his emotions threatened to make him act against his better judgement.

"This," she said, seeming to edge closer to him with every word, "this is more right than anything I've ever felt before." Feeling her breath on his cheek, so soft and airy, and seeing her lips, red and trembling ever so slightly, so close to his own, Obi-Wan did the only thing he knew to do: he kissed her.

It was so soft and so hushing at first, Padme barely realized she was being kissed and yet, at the same time, was aware of nothing else in the world. His lips were gentle and capable all at once, not demanding, but rather, imploring. She melted into his touch, finding his hand had dropped hers and yet not missing the contact, for it had now worked its way into her chestnut hair, his other arm snaking completely around her waist so that she found herself impossibly close to him. Padme had never felt anything more erotic in her life than being kissed like this by him, and she put her arms up around his neck, one hand rubbing lightly across his neck and shoulder and the other weaving into his hair. She moaned involuntarily, consumed by her desire, and found that her mouth was open now, giving him much more access. He was not overly zealous as their tongues became acquainted; there was a certain serenity in his kiss, and at the same time, a dangerous lust. She found he was dipping her back ever so slightly now, and thought to herself that never before had she experienced something so sensual as they bodies meeting, despite the layers of clothing between them. Her every curve melted against his hard body, her soft breasts against his broad, muscular chest, her small hips pressed surely against his, due to the strong arm that encircled her waist.

Her lips were delicious to Obi-Wan, still tasting of all the sweet fruit they had consumed earlier. She was so incredibly feminine and delicate, but his fear of handling such a perfect flower was replaced entirely by his ardor. Never in his life had he wanted something so desperately. He shifted against her so that now she could feel the hardness in his pants between her legs, and she gasped aloud as their lips broke from each other, in a combination of alarm and hot excitement. He kissed her neck, much in the same way she had kissed his earlier that morning, soft, sucking kisses on her pulse point that made her moan loudly, unashamed. His mustache tickling her skin was wildly sexy, and she felt a rush of heat and wetness at her core. As if he sensed this, Obi-Wan's hand journeyed down to cup her buttocks, and he squeezed it ever so slightly, grinding his pelvis almost unconciously against hers. His lips moved to her ear, and although she did not think it possible, she became even more aroused. She remembered his warm breath on her skin earlier that morning, and the tingle she had felt before was now a sweet shudder. He sucked on her earlobe lightly, whispering her name. "Obi-Wan," was all she could manage to say.

As if suddenly remembering who he was, he stopped kissing her suddenly and looked into her eyes in that way that saw straight into her soul. She had never before seen him look so pained, not even when Qui-Gon died. He kissed her once more, softly, slowly, and for quite a few seconds before pulling away again and then simply hugging her. Padme was confused, and yet she somehow understood. "We have to stop," he said. He voice shook a little. "We just have to."

She swallowed a lump in her throat, and inexplicably found her face wet, and realized she was crying. "Obi-Wan," she began, but he stopped her.

"Please," he said, looking past her, over her shoulder. "Please," he whispered again. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

The hum of passion still throbbed throughout the bodies of both, but somehow, without explination, both knew that what had passed between them could not go any further without dire consequences. Padme reached up a gentle hand to his face and kissed his cheek, sweetly and affectionately. "Let's go back inside," she said, and so the two headed back to the palace to face reality.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.

Part IV.

Back in her own quarters, Padme reflected anxiously on the orchard scene. She'd known that it would happen eventually; there was always something a bit charged between them. She'd anticipated it so eagerly...and she had not been disappointed. If anything, it far exceeded even her most embellished fantasies of what their first kiss would be like. There was one slight problem: now, she was left wanting much more.

Obi-Wan was fighting an inner battle in his own room, many flights below. He was torn by conflicting emotions over what he and the radiant young Senator had shared in the orchard. He supposed he should feel guilty, but guilt was perhaps the furthest emotion from him at the moment. It had felt so completely natural and right to kiss her like that, like it was almost meant to happen, and it scared Obi-Wan. Aside from being simply the most delicious and passionate kiss he had ever shared with a woman, there was something deeper than that about their connection; something that had always been there but was forever shadowed by Anakin. It seemed to almost glow and hum with energy and fire, a kind of connection that burned between them. More and more, he was beginning to feel as if he were only complete when he was with her. Now, after being apart from her for a few hours, Obi- Wan felt quite pathetic for being agonizingly anxious to see her again. At the same time, he was almost certain of one thing: he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her. After over an hour of meditation, he made up his mind; he would head back to Coruscant, with or without Padme. As much as he was concerned for her safety, he knew that now, with Anakin dead, there was no longer any immediate danger to her life. He considered that perhaps the greatest threat to her well-being right now was he himself. If things went to far, there was no telling what the consequences might be. He decided to have a serious discussion with Master Yoda about the matter.

Making his way to her room, he knocked softly on the door, as he had done just the night before, under much graver circumstances. An aching kind of guilt spread throughout his body, making his skin almost seem to burn. Anakin had been dead less than 24 hours, and he was already romancing his widow. She answered the door, blushing upon seeing him. "Obi-Wan," she smiled. "Please come in."

He sat down upon a luxurious red velvet chaise lounge. It was remarkably soft. The thought crossed his mind that it would be a great place for making love; a bit more interesting than a bed. Blast! Where did that come from? Anakin was right. Being around her was...intoxicating. Before his mind could travel any further into the gutter, he spoke.

"I'm going back to Coruscant to stay at the Temple," he said. "My place is there. I need to be with my fellow Jedi."

Padme had been facing away with him, a bit shy to face him after their orchard activities. She turned to him now, not believing her ears.

"What?" she gasped. "You're leaving me?"

"I'm not leaving you, Padme," he said softly. "But I am going, with or without you."

"You would leave me here, with no protection?"

"You've done a fine job of protecting yourself in the past, dear," he said, sadly. "And there is always palace security. Naboo is your home."

"Anakin was my home," she said fiercely. "I have no home anymore, and neither do you. You don't belong in the Temple anymore than I belong on Dagobah!"

"Padme, please," he said. "Don't be difficult. I need to be with my fellow Jedi, who can help me cope with my grief."

"Your grief?" she asked, her voice rising. "**Your** grief?! What about **my** grief? You're all I have now! How am I supposed to cope with **my** grief, without you?"

"You're strong, m'lady," he said honestly. "I don't believe there's anything you can't face and conquer."

"Obi-Wan, I need you." She seemed a bit frantic. "You can't leave me here."

"Then come with me," he said.

"And if I don't?"

"You'll be fine here without me." As if an afterthought, he said quietly, "You never needed me before..."

"I've always needed you," she whispered, edging closer to him. "In every way. And you've always been there. I can't stand the thought of not being with you, especially now."

He gulped at her sincerity. Even now, he had difficulty expressing his emotions, for it went against his nature as a Jedi to even feel things so intense.

"I can't stay with you," he said. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and he continued, pulling her chin up so that she was forced to meet his stormy gaze directly. "I can't bear to be so close to you and know that I can't have you. Please, try and understand that. Anakin was your husband and my best friend, and no matter how much either of us wants this -- it's wrong."

"It doesn't feel wrong," she said passionately. "Tell me why it's wrong, Obi-Wan. Tell me what's wrong about two people who love each other wanting to be together!"

He turned away from her and walked out onto her balcony, unable to formulate a response to her comment. He was not surprised when he felt her presence behind him and her warm hand on his shoulder.

"We don't have to fight it," she said softly. "What's there to stop us now? Why shouldn't we be happy, after all we've suffered?"

He turned to her and steadied his resolve as best he could. "Padme, I **have** to go," he said. "You're in no danger here."

"You're leaving me," she said, her face contorting as she began to cry. "You're leaving me!!"

"Don't say that," he said bitterly. "Stop crying!" he yelled, suddenly. He was desperate and angry at her for making everything so hard for him. Angry at Anakin for dying and throwing them together like this. Angry at Qui-Gon for making him promise that he would take the boy as his apprentice...angry that Anakin ever existed. Where was the balance? He wanted to scream. Where was the balance that was supposed to come?

Padme slapped him across the face, hard, so hard that it brought tears to his eyes. "How dare you say you're leaving me here to fend for myself, and then have the nerve to tell me to stop crying!"

He kissed her fiercely. So fiercely, it exceded even the fire with which Anakin had often kissed her. It was beyond passion, beyond desperation. There were no words for it. She wanted to push him away, but found that she could not resist his touch. She responded to him fervently, moaning into his mouth and relishing in being able to feel his touch again.

He pulled away, finally, by some miracle of the Force, and there was a look in his eyes so wild it both thrilled and scared her in the best possible way. "Are you happy?" he almost shouted. "Are you happy now? Tell me, does it make you happy that I can't keep my hands off you?"

She did not answer. Her blood was pounding through her and she felt both aroused and confused.

"Does it make you happy," he continued, "that when I'm with you, I forget every year of my Jedi training? Does it make you happy that I forget my apprentice ever existed and am **happy** that he is dead just so I can touch you? Does that make you happy, Padme?" She did not answer. "DOES IT?" He was crying but did not realize it.

"I can't take this anymore," he said, speaking mostly to himself. He grabbed her hand before he left, kissing her palm. He said nothing more, but his eyes spoke everything that Padme needed to hear.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.

Part V.

Obi-Wan sighed deeply as he stepped off of the Nabooian ship that had escorted him to Coruscant. Thanking the driver, he gathered up his survival pack, containing the few necessary possessions belonging to a Jedi and quickly hailed a taxi.

"Jedi Temple, please," he told the driver.

The slim human looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before pulling into traffic. "You're a Jedi?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied simply.

"Not many of you left, is there?"

Obi-Wan smiled a bit sadly. "Unfortunately. It's a bit lonely at the Temple nowadays."

"I know the feeling," said the driver. "Shouldn't an attractive fellow like yourself have someone to keep him warm at night?"

Although he was unsure of why he was opening up to a stranger, for once Obi- Wan felt like talking. "Jedi are forbidden to love," he said. "It's too much of a distraction."

His escort scoffed. "If I could find it, there's no way in hell I'd pass it up for a lifetime of thankless service and silly rules. Doesn't seem like a very good deal to me."

Obi-Wan frowned pensively for a moment. "It's not," he said softly after awhile. He wasn't even sure if the woman heard him, and was so deep in thought that he was startled when she announced their arrival at his destination.

Tipping her generously, he quitted the cab and watched it speed back into the blurred lines of traffic zipping through the air of Coruscant.

\----------------

The Temple was cool, as Obi-Wan remembered it always had been. With all the heavy cloaks Jedi wore, it was necessary, and despite his suffering, there was a comfort in the familiar air, and the feeling that he was finally home. He made his way slowly up the stairs to the living quarters, weary from grief and repressed emotion, eager to lay down. Finding the room that he used to share with Qui-Gon in his days as a Padawan, he was relieved to find it unoccupied. He needed to be somewhere where he didn't have to think about his late apprentice. Stripping away his outer layers and upper tunic, he collapsed onto the sleep couch. Within minutes, he had fallen into a fitful sleep.

In his dream, Anakin was not dead. Anakin was alive, but in strange form: he could not see him clearly, but he was not as he had known him. There was something terrifyingly dark about him, a kind of rage that seemed to radiate off his damaged body. His voice was different; deeper. His movements were confident in a chilling way: those of a man who knows no one can defeat him.

And then, he saw Padme. For all the difficulty that his mind had picturing Anakin, it were as if Padme were right before him for the clarity with which he dreamed of her. She was on her balcony, overlooking the water, beautiful and strong as always, but somehow sad. He tried to reach her, to call out to her, but he was too far away and she could not see or hear him. "Padme," he said, again and again. He did not know why, but there was a desperation to get her attention before something horrible happened. He had to warn her, had to let her know...know what? Something dark. Something dark... "Padme!" he yelled. "Padme!" When he woke, he was screaming her name.

A sense of dread washed over Obi-Wan. "You never should have left her," the voice in his head kept saying. "She needed you...she wanted you to stay, and you left her..." In his heart, he felt the approach of another tragedy that would be his fault.

He had to get back to Naboo immediately. There was still time. He could make it.

He nearly ran straight into Mace Windu as he rushed down the long flight of stairs with lighting speed. Only his Jedi reflexes prevented a collision.

"Obi-Wan?" said Mace in confusion. "Obi-Wan, where are you going?!" he yelled as Obi-Wan continued to retreat. "Yoda and I need to speak with you!" Seeing that the Jedi was not stopping, he yelled in slight irritation, "You'd better be back by the morning!"

"I'll do my best, Master!" was his barely audible reply.

\----------------

Obi-Wan raced with a speed he did not know he possessed to Naboo. He was not the pilot that Anakin had been -- or was? -- but he found that his adrenaline provided him with sufficient skill to make it back to Padme's home planet.

Flying low over the surface of the planet, he knew he was getting closer to the palace and the landing platform. "Just another mile," he told himself.

As half a mile passed, Obi-Wan found himself barely able to see through a thick cloud of smoke. His vision obstructed, he was forced to pull the ship up higher.

The view that this provided was astonishing in its horror and it sent a cold, almost paralyzing chill straight through Obi-Wan. The entire east side of the palace was no longer there, and the rest of it was almost entirely engulfed in flames. A shudder went through him as he felt a familiar presence in the Force. Anakin was here. Anakin had done this. But why? And what of Padme?

He could feel her presence here as well, but further away. She was alive, at least. If he could only reach her in time...

Landing his ship in an open field near the palace, he raced towards her chamber on the west side of the palace, which was slowly being eaten by the flames. He could see her, so so high up, on her balcony, clinging onto it desperately, apparently in shock. The fire had not yet reached her room, but he knew that it was only a matter of minutes before it did. His beautiful Padme was trapped.

"Padme!" he cried, as loud as he could. "Padme!" But she could not hear him.

Suddenly, a black shrouded figure appeared behind her. He knew instinctively that it was Anakin: or at least, the person who once was Anakin. She turned, sensing him as well, and he advanced toward her until she could retreat no further. Straining to hear, he watched in horror as she climbed on top of the railing. She was at least 7 stories above the icy water below. If she jumped, she would almost surely die. But there was no other exit.

"Don't touch me," he heard her say, her usually soft voice full of anger and surprisingly unafraid. "No, you're not my husband!" she screamed. "You're not!"

And then, both Master and apprentice watched as a little white-clad brunnette pitched herself off her balcony and into the water below.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.

Part VI.

Obi-Wan did not hesitate to see what his former Padawan would do next. There was only one thing on his mind: Padme.

He dove in the water, using the Force to let his body adjust to the frigid temperature and guide him to where she was. Seconds passed like minutes, the water stinging his eyes as he looked for any sign of her. Finally, he saw her, sinking slowly towards the bottom and an uncertain depth. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and swam for the surface.

Breaking the surface of the crystal water, the heat from the fire that engulfed the palace was a sharp contrast to the coldness of the water, sending Obi-Wan's body briefly into a kind of shock. The smoke choked him so that he could barely breathe, and he noted with horror the the girl in his arms was not breathing at all. As he swam for the shore, bits of flaming debris fell into the water around him. It seemed like years before he finally reached the banks of the water.

He laid her gentle down on the grass and nearly panicked when he could not find her pulse. "Please, please, please, don't let her be dead," he thought. "She's all I have left."

But she wasn't dead. She just couldn't be. Surely fate could not be so cruel.

And yet, she showed no signs of life. Her chest was frighteningly still and her lips were turning a sick blue color that Obi-Wan had seen comes over the mouths of too many people too many times. Pressing a hand to her chest while giving her mouth-to-mouth, Obi-Wan passed a jolt from the Force into her body strong enough to knock a man off his feet. He felt her heart begin to beat again, and with a cough, she began to breathe.

"Padme," he said, tears of relief blinding him. He kissed her pale cheek before scooping her up in his arms, and running back to his ship to take off, hoping desperately that he would encounter no obstacle along the way. The water had shorted out his lightsaber and he could do little in the ways of defense with an unconcious woman in his arms.

By some miracle of the Force, he made it safely back to his cruiser and deposited Padme into the co-pilot's seat. He knew that he had to get off the planet before Anakin could bring them any further damage. But the image of the black-clad figure on Padme's balcony flashed across his eyes. Surely he must be truly dead now, he thought. There was no escape other than the one Padme had taken, and barely survived from. A thousand questions flooded his mind of how his Padawan had survived the incident that should have most surely killed him, but he pushed them away. Thoughts for a later day.

As he took off from the surface, he could not bear to look back at the beautiful world that Padme had loved so dearly, consumed by flame and falling to ruins. A shudder passed through him at the thought that this was only the beginning of something terrible.

\---------------------

Setting the coordinates on auto-pilot for a kind of Jedi refuge planet, Obi- Wan turned his attention back to Padme. She was still unconcious, but her breathing was steady and her pulse was stronger. Yet, she was shivering from her soaked clothing and hair. Having no other option, he stripped her carefully of her little heels and thin white gown until she was naked before him. Retrieving the blanket from the sleep couch in the small ship, he tried, a bit unsuccessfully, to avert his eyes as he dried her soft body carefully. Now was hardly the time for eroticism, however. He was far more concerned with simply making sure that his love would survive.

Discarding the now thoroughly damp blanket to the side, Obi-Wan remembered his Jedi robe that he had left onboard the ship when he landed. Thankful for something dry to cover her with, he slipped her little arms into the sleeves and wrapped it close around her small body. Picking her up carefully, he took her to the back of the ship, close to the engine where it was the most warm. He sat down and leaned back against the wall, which radiated a pleasant warmth, and positioned Padme so that her damp hair was away from her head and her body flush with what Obi-Wan determined was the warmest part of the ship. He had intended to stay awake and watch her for any signs of trouble or improvement, but fatigue soon claimed his body and he fell into a deep, thoughtless sleep.

Obi-Wan awoke some hours later to find Padme still in a state of unconciousness. He fretted that she might never come around, and with this worry, had the urge to pull her closer to him. Although he was still wet himself, he did not hesitate to pull her head into his lap so that her neck rested comfortably against his thigh and her long brown hair spilled into his lap. He stroked her hair unconciously, rubbing her soft cheek as well. It was this comforting sensation that slowly brought Padme back to reality.

As she slowly regained conciousness, she felt almost sure that she must have died and gone on to some pleasant place. She was comfortably warm and a deliciously soft robe of some kind hugged her curves. A strong but gentle hand caressed her face, and she felt that surely it must be the hand of the great Savior she had heard of. She opened her eyes, blinking slowly as the world came into focus. It was only when her gaze met a pair of sparkling gray-blue eyes that she realized who her savior truly was: Obi-Wan. For a moment, she was unsure if she were dreaming.

"Obi-Wan," she whispered, still dazed. "You -- came back." She reached a hand up weakly for his face, but when it did not make her destination, she found it entwined with his. It was a familiar sensation, and one that served to provide her with a bit of strength, for she moved and repositioned herself so that she was sitting in his lap. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, which she kissed lightly as she had done in a morning that seemed so long ago. The arm that was not occupied in holding her hand wrapped around her tightly, clasping her to him with an iron grip that was gave Padme an enormous sense of comfort and safety.

"I never should've left," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

"Don't cry, Obi-Wan," she said softly, her breath warming his cool skin. "I knew you'd come back."

"I was so afraid I'd lost you," he managed, repressing a sob. Never had he felt such strong emotion before. "If I had..." he couldn't bear to finish his own sentence aloud, but in his thoughts, he said, "I would have died, too. I would rather be dead than live without you..."

"You don't have to say anymore," she said. "Everything's alright now."

Both knew in their hearts that everything was far from being alright, but the words provided a small comfort.

Selfless as always, Padme voiced her concern. "You're not hurt, are you, darling?"

"No," he said, but as if his body were suddenly reminded of it's damp condition, he shivered.

"You're awfully cold, Obi-Wan," she said. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes."

"I don't have any others," he gulped.

"It's alright," she said.

"But..."

"Now is no time for modesty, my dear Jedi," she said. Her small hands fumbled with his belt, unhooking it and placing it off to the side. She pulled his upper tunic over his head for him, running her hand from his neck down his toned pecs and to his chiseled abs and back up again. She kissed his neck, again and again, and he sighed at the sensation and the relief from his wet garments. Standing on shaky legs, she offered her hand down to Obi-Wan, who took it and stood with her. Together, the walked to the sleep couch.

Obi-Wan pulled off his boots on his own, and with a bit of shyness, finally discarded his trousers. Padme marveled at the site of his naked body, golden and firm. A good tingle went through her when she realized that he had already seen her nude form, and a slight disappointment that she had not been able to see the look in his eyes and he saw her for the first time. But now was not the time for such thoughts.

There was one last sheet on the sleep couch, which Padme removed to dry him off with. She took her time making sure that he was thoroughly free of moisture, running it over his shoulders and down his back, down his arms and legs. Finally, she guided it over his manhood, rubbing up and down and up and down, twisting it ever so sligthly, until his strong grip on her wrist abruptly stilled her motions.

She looked up at him coyly and said softly, "Just making sure you're thoroughly dry."

"Trust me," he said, his voice low and velvety. "I'm dry."

Shrugging his robe off her shoulders, she smiled seductively as she crawled into his lap. "I'm not." She kissed him slowly, lazily, and he could feel the evidence of her statement against his thigh.

He let one large hand glide down to her round bottom and rest there. He smiled up at her, his eyes sparkling with lust and something much deeper. There were so many things he wanted to say, but the words left him. So many things he wanted to do...but their exhausted bodies were in need of some time to recooperate.

Suddenly, she yawned deeply, evidence of their mutual fatigue and need to simply recover from the shock of the days events. Despite his current state of arousal, Obi-Wan decided he had never seen something so endearing. Realizing that he was just as tired as she was, he was only a bit disappointed when she moved off of him to nestle against his side, snuggling her face into his chest and planting a small kiss there. "Patience, Obi-Wan," she teased him. "Good things come to those who wait." She let a hand trail down to his erection, and dragged a long nail down its length.

"Soon, Padme," he said, kissing her forehead. "I've waited for you for so long..."

And the two fell into a fevered sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning the loss of Anakin, Obi-Wan and Padme turn to each other.

Part VII.

Padme awoke after several hours of a blissful sleep, full of imagined things that she hoped she would be experiencing within moments. Obi-Wan was still slumbering peacefully and she did not wish to wake him, but she could not resist the oppurtunity to become better aquainted with his body.

Sitting up a little to give herself better access, she let her hands travel over his hard chest, thumbs grazing his nipples. She marveled at his firm stomach; how hard the muscles were under his golden skin. His waist was narrow and inviting, leading down to his most sensitive body part. She smiled, feeling a little shy as her gaze locked on the aforementioned appendage. She was tempted to touch it, but knew that doing so would stir Obi-Wan from his slumber, and he looked so peaceful she decided she could wait until he was concious to experiment. He was quite well-endowed, she noted. She wondered what it would feel like inside her...she'd dreamed of it so many nights. Deciding to focus on safer areas of his body, she moved to admire his strong legs. Legs were often overlooked when regarding the male body, but she noted that even his long limbs were attractive. She touched one thigh, tentatively, and Obi-Wan made a funny little noise in his sleep. She smiled.

Now she focused on his arms. And what lovely arms they were! And how she loved being held in those arms. His biceps were large and powerful and even his forearms were well-muscled. She lifted one hand carefully to better examine it. His fingers were long and slender, the tips deliciously rough with callouses. And they were so large compared to hers. Deciding she could no longer wait to feel those hands doing wonderful things to her, she let her own hand drift down his stomach until she was gripping him firmly. At least part of him was awake now. In moments, his eyes fluttered open as he realized that the sensations he was feeling were too good to be a dream.

Neglecting her previous actions upon finding him awake, she pulled herself up his body so that she could look at his face. It was a very nice face. His eyes were so full of emotion, and now, as she had seen them so many times before, they were almost colorless with desire and love. He turned on his side so that he could stroke her hair and let his hand trail up and down her side. He said nothing for a moment.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked her finally.

"Yes," she said firmly before kissing him lightly. "I love you, I need you, and I want you, Obi-Wan,"she said softly.

He seemed surprised by her words. "You love me?"

Padme laughed. "Surely you must know that," she said.

"I didn't think it could ever be possible for you to love me," he said. A tear slipped from his eye. "There was always something in the way --"

She scooted closer to him, so that her breasts were pressed firmly against his chest and he could feel her breath on his neck. He pulled her even closer to him, possesively.

"I've known for so long," she said, "that it was you I wanted and not him. It was you whom I needed; it was you whom I loved. I only realized it too late."

"It's never too late," Obi-Wan whispered.

After a beat, he said very softly into her hair, "When did you know?"

Padme sighed, closing her eyes and remembering the night when she'd come to the realization that Obi-Wan was the answer to her every question. "I used to have this dream," she began. "I dreamed of a man with gray-blue eyes and red-blonde hair making love to me over and over again." She shuddered, a good shudder at the memory and the thought of things to come. "He was so strong, but gentle...and we...it was like we were always supposed to be together, the way our bodies just fit. He was so big it hurt, but in such a good way. His weight...felt so good on me." She sighed, and Obi-Wan began kissing her as she continued. "He told me that he loved me, told me that I was his world, his universe. But I never knew who I was dreaming about until one night when I woke up screaming his name. It was you, Obi-Wan," she said.

Taking this as his cue, Obi-Wan rolled over on top of her and slipped inside of her, making her dream a reality. She moaned at his size, closing her eyes and simply relishing in the feeling of their bodies joining as one. A tear slid down her cheek, and she could taste its salty sweetness on her lips. And again, she said, "It was you."

\---The End, Part I--


End file.
